


Stupidly Late

by FalseDevotion



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, Fights, M/M, at least it's hopeful hahahah, i guess?, idk what else to add, talk of the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 22:31:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20460569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalseDevotion/pseuds/FalseDevotion
Summary: “I really am sorry, Michael.” Calum fell to his knees right before him, sitting on his heels so his eyes were at the same level as Michael’s. The older made a weird face at Calum calling him by his full name, and it almost made Calum chuckle. It had been some time since he last did that. He only called Michael Michael when he was talking something important. Like he was right now. “I’m sorry I took it out on you.”The older was wearing one of Calum’s sweaters, almost too big on him. He had stolen it enough times that Calum already thought of it as theirs.“I’m sorry too.” Michael whispered, his green eyes shining in the flicker of the Christmas lights that hung on the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. It wasn’t fair.”





	Stupidly Late

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maluminspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maluminspace/gifts).

> I know I have a lot of ongoing series but I have been talking with the lovely @maluminspace and I just had to write something for her. She's the absolute best. I hope you like this Laura 🤞  
The title is both a reference to the fic and to my inability to work faster, I promised her this like...a week ago. Sorry love 😅

Calum took one last drag of the cigarette before throwing it down at the sidewalk and extinguishing its flickering light with his right foot. It was cold outside, but not so much that he couldn’t stand there for at least a few more minutes just to clear his head. The heat of the argument he just had with Michael still burnt through him, seemingly making him immune to the icy winds that ruffled through the trees of the park in front of him. He stared at what remained of the smoke, his eyes not really focusing as he clenched his fists, Michael’s voice resonating in his ears.

It had been an argument they had had several times already, each time leading up to another spat even more stupid than the last. Calum knew it wouldn’t be the last time they had it, either. And to be there, smoking, when Calum knew Michael disapproved it was making the feeling of guilt in his chest weigh even more.

He was supposed to quit. Had managed it actually for a short period. But between work, his dad breathing down his neck about the ring, the fucking stupid broken mug and that fight, it had just been too much for him. He had broken into the stash Michael kept locked under key in their kitchen. _When you feel like you need nicotine, just come to me for the key, we can talk about why_. This time they hadn’t. Michael hadn’t even said anything when Calum extended his hand after their words stopped resonating inside the walls. The older hadn’t even looked at him like Calum had let him down like all those other times. He had just given him the key he kept around his neck and sent him a sad smile before turning away and closing the door to their room softly.

The stub was rolling up and down the pavement with the wind, and Calum bent down to take it before the wind took it away, too far to reach. He eyed the bin across the street, just off the corner of the park. It seemed way far and close enough at the same time as he stood there unable to move. He turned around, glancing towards their house. The bedroom light was off, and he feared Michael would have gone to sleep. But it wasn’t like him, like them. They always talked stuff through, never went to sleep without clearing the air. It wouldn’t be different that night either if Calum just found the strength in him to face the older. 

It always started small. Like with the mug today. It had probably been Calum’s fault, leaving it so carelessly on the edge of the table where anyone could so easily knock it down. Which was what had happened. Michael had started lecturing him for being so careless as he picked up broken pieces from the floor, his voice lacking the warm tone he used to use whenever Calum was clumsy and reckless when they were younger. It were all their little quirks they used to find cute about each other that made them drive each other crazy nowadays. Calum’s carelessness. Michael’s incessant worrying. Their jabs next escalated to their ‘flaws’, Michael’s lack of motivation, Calum’s inability to work through stress without nicotine. It always ended with them saying stuff they didn’t truly mean. This time it had been Michael’s turn to raise his voice after Calum shouted at him, Michael’s turn to say the hurtful words. _It feels like you don’t even live here with me. _

And still Calum knew the trigger had been his fault. The other stuff about the fight probably was too.

Work had been shitty that day. Had been shitty for more than a few days, actually. _Weeks_. Calum had begun to understand why Michael came home weary-eyed and drained from his office. Calum was experiencing it too. His company had started downsizing, and him being in HR meant Calum was the one the people came to complaining, crying or angry about their layoffs. It hadn’t been pretty. And feeling down because he couldn’t do anything about that had lead to guilt about not having been there enough for Michael when things took a turn for the bad in the older’s workplace. So Calum had started resenting himself, resenting his company, resenting his life. Michael had just been the collateral damage today, and Calum really couldn’t allow himself to explode like that ever again. If he did, he might lose the older, and that was the last thing he wanted.

They had never once in their six-year relationship expressed doubts about it. It was like they both knew they were forever, but even then, a little reassurance –from any of them, Calum took the blame too– would have been nice. They hadn’t had that. They had stopped talking about the future, too caught up in a present they both were starting to hate, and their relationship seemed to have been put on hold because of it. It didn’t matter how much they loved each other, how Calum still whispered sweet nothings each night for Michael to hear until they both fell asleep. Didn’t matter how Michael still took care of him, said _I love you _a hundred times a day.

Calum had met Michael when they were both still in their diapers. They had grown up together, best friends who couldn’t leave each other for more than a day without feeling lost. Calum thought looking back that he should have realised what Michael meant to him the first time the older’s heart got broken and Calum’s own heart broke along with it, a weird weight settling in his stomach as Michael cried to him all about the boy who he had thought was the one. They had been sixteen at the time.

It hadn’t been until long after, countless broken hearts between them both and wasted years on other relationships that Calum realised. _‘I’m stupidly late’_, he would always mumble to Michael, who would just laugh and answer, _‘Still early enough.’ _It probably wouldn’t make sense to an outsider, but it worked for them, it meant _something_ to them. And that was all that mattered.

In a way, Calum had always held himself back from giving his all in every relationship he had ever had before Michael. He hadn’t known why. He had understood, though, the moment he was able to name his feelings for Michael. _‘I… I think I’m in love with you. Have been for ages.’_ Every single piece of his life history up to then fell into place. And even now that Calum knew what had kept him back all those years, fucking up other relationships, he was still fucking this one up.

Six years in, a house together and a ring hidden in an old cardboard box upstairs in the attic, and Calum realised that the habit of not sharing his mind had stayed with him. He had been unable to shake it off even when it was easy, sharing with Michael. It always had been _easy_, before they even dated. It seemed so natural to tell Michael about his day, his fears, his dreams. Calum had rambled so often about everything and nothing to the older through the years that he hadn’t truly realised when he stopped, falling back into awful patterns of holding himself back. He just knew breathing had become more difficult.

He had bought that ring for Michael two years back. Had gone up to the attic countless times since then, stared at the box, seen how the edges of the cardboard box were beginning to cave in because of the humidity up there. Seen the dust covering it. Gone back down to bed, cuddled up to a sleeping Michael and whispered to himself, _‘This is enough.’_

But it wasn’t. And he hated himself more each day for it.

He had to put an end to it, to his _running away_ instinct. He was with Michael now, had been for six years, been running towards him his whole life before that. They _had_ a future together, despite the past few weeks. Calum had fucked up, and he knew he had to explain himself to Michael. He owed it to him. And it had to be soon.

It wasn’t like their relationship was strained because of it, there weren’t big cracks that would break them. But there were invisible streaks, running through them, tinting their time together differently, their words silenced. The streaks were airing their fears and exposing their hearts, like an open wound pouring out, and Calum had never wanted to make Michael suffer at his hand. It was the last thing on his mind. And Calum knew the last few weeks he had been a pain in the ass, to put in mildly.

He took a deep breath, jogging up to the bin and throwing the stub in, promising himself this time he wouldn’t keep more cigarettes in the house. Promising himself to actually speak to Michael, lean on him instead of going after the easy fix.

It was a wonder the older kept up with him after all those years. Through friendship and relationship, and Michael still stuck by him. When Calum thought of himself, he only saw a barely decent bloke with a boring job and a complicated way of handling life. But he supposed Michael had to see something else, to have stayed with him this long.

When he came through the front door, everything was silent. Not that he would have expected otherwise. Michael wasn’t on the ground floor, by the looks of it. Calum locked the door and kicked off his shoes, padding towards the stairs. Pictures of him and Michael stared at Calum as he climbed up, milestones in their lives. First birthday party, together at only 2. First sleepover. First date. First night at this house, their _place_. Calum could literally say he didn’t remember a time in his life when Michael wasn’t in it. The thought gave Calum the strength to climb up the last steps, sighing when he reached the landing.

The door to their room at the end of the hall was open, his eyes falling directly on their unmade bed. It was empty. He couldn’t hear Michael’s breathing anywhere close by, and the bathroom was just as empty. Which only really left a place for Michael to be at.

Calum reached up towards the small handle hanging from the ceiling ladder that would let him access the attic, his heart starting to beat loudly in his ears as he pulled on it. There was a faint light coming down from it, so he had been right. Michael had taken refuge here after Calum left the house.

He tried to ignore the way his legs shook as he climbed the unstable ladder, thinking about how Michael would have sniggered at him if they hadn’t been fighting. _I can’t believe of all scary things in this world it’s a fucking ladder that makes your legs wobbly. _It pulled a small smile out of Calum’s lips just as he got to the upper floor. He took a moment for himself before he lifted his gaze, his eyes quickly finding Michael, huddled in a corner of the place where they kept an old mattress and a bunch of blankets just because, for when they wanted to disappear from the everyday world. They even had a _fort_.

The older was bundled up in the blankets, though, curled up at the far end of the mattress, only his hair and half his face peeking out. Calum could see even from here that Michael had been crying. It broke his heart.

He approached him slowly, shuffling his feet over the old boards, his eyes never leaving Michael. It hurt to see him like this, but it had been Calum the one to cause those tears, he didn’t have a right to look away. He stopped walking when his feet hit the mattress, and stayed there, his hands clenching down in fists again. Michael didn’t look up.

“I’m sorry.” Calum said.

His voice sounded muffled. There wasn’t any space in there for it to have an echo, old boxes from when they first moved here plus stuff they had accumulated over the years softening it.

Michael just hummed, clutching the blankets closer around himself.

“I am sorry I snapped.” Calum tried again. “You don’t deserve that, and I need to learn how to talk to you so it doesn’t happen.”

Michael sighed at that, rolling onto his back before he sat up, his eyes meeting Calum’s.

“You know how to talk to me, Cal. You’ve been rambling ceaselessly since we met.” The older chuckled, and it made a small smile appear on Calum’s lips. He lost it almost as quick as it had come.

“I really am sorry, Michael.” Calum fell to his knees right before him, sitting on his heels so his eyes were at the same level as Michael’s. The older made a weird face at Calum calling him by his full name, and it almost made Calum chuckle. It had been some time since he last did that. He only called Michael _Michael_ when he was talking something important. Like he was right now. “I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

The older was wearing one of Calum’s sweaters, almost too big on him. He had stolen it enough times that Calum already thought of it as theirs.

“I’m sorry too.” Michael whispered, his green eyes shining in the flicker of the Christmas lights that hung on the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have said what I said. It wasn’t fair.”

“But it was true.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Michael shook his head. “You still come home to me every day from work, ask about my day and listen to whatever I have to say.” Michael started, reaching for one of Calum’s hands, his lips forming up a sad smile as his eyes teared up. “You still cook dinner with me, lie down with me while we watch TV, cuddle me to sleep. Still tell me that you love me every single day without fail. I’m not _alone_.”

Calum felt a knot growing on his throat at that, tears rushing to his eyes. Michael would always see the best in him, the best in any situation. And it just wasn’t fair, because this time… This time it had been entirely Calum’s fault and they both knew it.

“I’ve been distant.” He let out in a breath, glancing away from Michael’s eyes. He couldn’t take the openness of them.

“We all have our periods where we just need to be within our own minds, Cal.” Michael sighed. “I don’t love you any less for that.”

Calum hummed, his heart giving a squeeze when Michael held his hand tighter.

“I know that, Mike.” He turned their hands around, lacing their fingers together. It still gave him a thrill, just playing with Michael’s fingers. Like he was twenty-two again, butterflies waging in his stomach like it was the first time he fell in love with someone. He wondered when Michael’s touch had started giving him goosebumps. It was such a big contrast to how the guilt about their argument still weighed down on his chest that it made it difficult to breathe. “What about our fights?”

“_I_ started a lot of those.” Michael quickly answered.

Calum looked back up at that, tearing his eyes away from their hands, searching for Michael’s own instead. The older’s eyes were still red-rimmed. It made Calum’s heart hurt inside his chest.

“But those weren’t _your_ fault.” Calum insisted.

“They weren’t yours either.” Michael said firmly.

His voice didn’t leave any room for Calum to keep on insisting they had been his fault, most of them triggered by something stupid he had said or done or not done, and the younger knew it wouldn’t do anything to try to convince Michael of it. It would just lead to another fight, so he just swallowed the knot still on his throat and muttered _Okay_ for the sake of their sanity.

Michael’s lips twitched upwards for a second before he leant forward, pressing his lips lightly to Calum’s cheek before tugging on his hands towards the mattress. Calum went willingly, lying on his side as Michael did the same, fishing out another blanket he could wrap Calum in, a couple of pillows for the younger that Calum wouldn’t probably need. He preferred Michael’s shoulder, anyway.

They were silent for a while, both their breathings evening out. For a moment Calum was scared Michael had fallen asleep, because he had shut his eyes a while ago, but the older’s hand still caressed his side over his tee every once in a while. The younger was almost tempted to let himself fall asleep. It had to be near 3 o’clock already, and after a whole week of stress at work, Calum was _tired_.

He had a bad aftertaste in his mouth, though. They hadn’t truly _talked_ about the fight or previous fights, and Calum’s brain was still hopping from one thought to the next trying to make sense of all that was happening between them. And the main problem was, they hadn’t talked about them for some time, had given in to just going through the motions.

“I can hear you thinking.” Michael let out, lazy tone taking hold of his voice, giving it that lovely warm feel Calum loved. It was mostly present when Michael was just about to fall asleep or just woken up. When he was feeling cosy and sleepy, and Calum could practically see the slight smile pulling on his lips.

“We haven’t talked about our future in a while.” Calum whispered hesitantly, biting his lip as he waited for Michael to answer him. He hadn’t outwardly reacted in any way, and Calum didn’t know what to think of that.

They were pretty set. Their house had a guest bedroom that could be turned into a nursery or a child bedroom if they ever adopted. They had discussed having kids a couple years back –right around the time Calum _had_ bought the ring with his dad– but they had both come to the conclusion that they would wait until they had the means to take care of another human being. And by the state of their bank accounts and the many instalments they still had to pay off the mortgage on the house, that wasn’t going to be any time soon. They weren’t in a rush, though. They already were a family. Michael, him, and the plants out back in the garden.

“I noticed it, too.” Michael whispered back, and Calum’s heart gave another squeeze at them always being on the same wavelength, even when they –_Calum, especially–_ didn’t communicate. Michael took a deep breath, his abdomen raising bringing Calum’s arm up with it, before he let the air out in a long sigh. “We’re just…”

“Going through a rough patch?” Calum sighed back, craning his head up to look at Michael, who still had his eyes closed.

“Yeah.”

It felt somehow liberating, to have it out in the open between them. Their jobs and the stress and everything in their lives was causing a strain on their relationship, but it had nothing on the love they felt for each other. Michael was right. Everyone had times like these, the only difference between people who thought it would break their relationship and them was that Michael and Calum both knew they were stronger than a few bad weeks, and that their love for each other was in no way diminished by how stressed they were. Calum felt the need to share _that_ thought so strongly that for once he didn’t stop to think about if he should or if it was too much.

“I really do love you, Mikey.” He murmured in the quiet. “I’m just as in love with you if not more as I was when I couldn’t grow a fucking beard and my salary didn’t add up to pay for my part of our shitty apartment near uni.”

Michael let out a chuckle at that, but by the way he opened his eyes and his expression softened, Calum knew he had done the right thing telling him. Even if he had done it so cheesily.

“One, you still can’t grow a beard, baby.” Michael started, his voice so warm and fond than even with the jab Calum felt nothing but butterflies at it. “Two, that apartment wasn’t shitty. It had _character_.”

“Shut up.” Calum chuckled quietly. Clearly their memories of it were vastly different. “The place smelt horribly bad because of the sewage treatment plant a mile off from our neighbourhood, don’t you remember that?”

“Oh shit, that’s true. My god, I had forgotten that.” Michael said, the laughter in his voice rumbling underneath Calum’s cheek. It made the younger smile. They had been happy there, long nights cramming together, a few parties, their accidental first kiss, their definitely _not_ accidental second and the night that followed it. In truth Calum cherished that place. Michael’s thoughts once again seemed to have followed a similar path as his, because he next whispered, “We fell in love there.”

“Nah-huh.” Calum said instead, letting out a long sigh before he rolled on top of Michael, reaching up with his hand to brush away a strand of hair that was directly obstructing his favourite green. “I fell in love with you before that, I believe.” He whispered, for some stupid reason tears rushing to his eyes. “I was just too stupid to notice.”

Michael chuckled softly at that, but the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down told Calum that the older had gotten just as overwhelmed by feelings as he had.

“_Stupidly late_.” Michael finally whispered, voice thick.

Calum had to swallow too, blink away a couple of tears before he leaned back a little, letting out a watery chuckle.

“That’s _my_ line.” He complained, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. There _couldn’t be_. Not when his heart was swelling inside his chest like his ribcage was too small to contain the love he felt for Michael. The love he knew they had between them.

Michael’s lips twitched upwards in a smile, but when Calum looked up again, the red around his eyes made him lean back a bit.

“I’m sorry I made you cry.” He said quietly, almost looking away, ashamed.

But Michael gently cupped his jaw, shaking his head. “I was upset at myself, not at you.”

“It still was my fault.”

Michael just hummed, conceding him that at least. Not a thing to be happy about, that victory. But at least Michael accepted his apology, even if it probably only was not to cause another fight.

Making Michael cry had never really been a pretty thing to have looming in his conscience, not that Calum had known before they moved from friends to dating. When they were just best friends, the people who made Michael cry –and Calum angry– were always _others_. All the cheaters and non-committers and the flings who left too early. Calum hadn’t understood the full extent of the ride he was embarking on, Michael giving him his whole heart, until he found himself making some of the mistakes he had long-criticised in Michael’s last partners. He hated himself most in those times. He had learnt to be careful, to mind his words even when he was angry, because Michael’s heart was too precious to even bruise. And lately, as high strung as they both had been, maybe he hadn’t managed it. And Michael didn’t want to acknowledge it, but Calum knew those tears were partly because of how he had started shouting at Michael. And he couldn’t let himself do it anymore. It wasn’t healthy, and it wasn’t respectful.

Calum didn’t say anything about it, though, knowing Michael would immediately disagree with him, try to say Calum was just being too hard on himself. So the younger stayed quiet and silently vowed it to himself to never again put tears in the older’s eyes unless they were tears of joy.

Thing was... he knew had the perfect question to put those kinds of tears in Michael’s eyes. Calum could see it happening so clearly.

He could just get up and lean over the mattress towards where their old TV was gathering up dust in a corner. Move away the cardboard boxes containing some of Michael’s old video games, some of his own textbooks from way back. He would find the little cardboard box, blow on the dust that had gathered on top of it, would sneeze when it hit his nose. Michael would laugh at him, asking him what he was looking for. The older would complain about being cold, would say he missed Calum’s warmth on top of him, Calum’s breathing on his neck, Calum’s heartbeat matching with his own. Calum would giggle quietly and mumble something about Michael being mushy, a small grin on his face as warmth would spread all through him. He would open the box, fish the little velvety one inside it and shield it from Michael’s view with his body. It would be so easy up till that point.

Then Calum would turn around, look Michael in the eye and would begin to stutter, because _of course_ he would, blushing to his ears. Michael would catch on too soon, he was too clever for Calum to ever pull a full speech, not to speak of getting just a couple of words out, before the older realised what Calum was trying to do. Michael would probably start crying then, right on cue as Calum started mumbling all about the man he fell in love with, that made his heart feel full and his life feel worth living. His _best friend_. They would both end up sobbing and smiling so bright even before Calum finished stumbling over the words, before he even uttered the defining _‘Will you marry me?’..._

But he wasn’t going to ask tonight. The fight still felt near enough that Calum was scared about even thinking about it. He didn’t want to ask Michael yet, because _he_ didn’t feel ready. His most recent fuck up was still very much present in his mind, and Calum just didn’t feel like he was good enough for Michael yet, not until he didn’t fuck up this bad that he ended up making Michael cry. Maybe that was what had been holding him back. Knowing he still wasn’t deserving of Michael. That he still made him cry because of petty arguments, that he put tears that weren’t of happiness in his favourite shade of green. Calum had to work on _that_ before he could even think of planning to pop the question.

He had bought the ring two years back knowing he was going to marry Michael someday. Calum had seen it in a jewellery store while buying something for his sister’s birthday, but hadn’t had to courage to buy it right that moment. His dad had dragged him there after Calum confessed what had him so quiet and introspective as everyone enjoyed Mali-Koa’s party. In fact, his old man had asked him every week since then if Calum had popped the question, and each time Calum had said _‘No, not yet. But soon.’_ He would say the same when the weekly question came this Sunday at dinner. But this time, he would mean the part about asking _soon_. And for that to actually happen, Calum had to set his mind for it. No more running. No more staying within the safe walls of his mind, never sharing what was going through his thoughts. Michael was the person he trusted more in his life, for heaven’s sake. It was high time Calum went back to acting like he was.

“Mike?”

Michael hummed under him, his eyes closed as he breathed in deeply. He had buried his hand in Calum’s hair and was gently stroking through it, making Calum feel so loved and soft it hurt.

“I don’t ever want to fight with you again.” He sighed.

Michael opened his eyes at that, something shining in the back of them. It took Calum a few more seconds to notice it was _amusement_.

“I think that’s not a likely wish to come true, baby.” Michael chuckled.

Calum hit him playfully on the chest, muttering a _fuck you_ as he felt blood rushing to his cheeks. Unlike Michael, Calum usually wasn’t too liberal with his mushiness –unless the spirit of any situation required it. He blushed remembering his supersentimental speech on their last anniversary–, but every time Calum _was_ liberal with it, the older always chuckled at him. At least at first, then the amusement faded and Michael just melted under Calum’s words, into his arms. Calum knew it was an act of _‘defence’_. He wasn’t too good at expressing his love and Michael wasn’t too good at accepting it. They had both long accepted it with time, and yet they still fought against it for the sake of their relationship. It wasn’t exactly that they needed to _change_, not really. Grow together, yes, of course, but never _change_.

Michael reached up his free hand towards Calum’s face, his knuckles gently stroking over the younger’s still reddened cheek. It made the love cursing through Calum’s veins burn bright. When Michael turned his hand to cup his jaw, Calum leaned into the touch closing his eyes for a moment, committing everything to memory. The way Michael’s chest rose and fell underneath him. The smell of dust up there. The texture of the blanket, now tangled in between their legs after Calum had rolled up on top of Michael. The fairy lights and how Michael’s eyes had shined in their low light. The knowledge that even if he didn’t pop the question today, he would have his whole life to spend with Michael. That was the faith –wait. No. It wasn’t faith. That was the _sureness _of them, together. Not even petty fights would break them up. _Nothing _would. They had fallen in love with each other through the years, flaws and all. Nothing could break what they had.

He felt Michael leaning towards him and Calum’s lips quirked up in a half smile as an automatic reflex. The older’s breath was hitting his cheeks, coming out slightly uneven, and Calum had the confirmation then that his words had had their usual effect on Michael. Even the older’s hands were starting to shake as he pressed his lips to the corner of Calum’s mouth in a half kiss that Calum couldn’t guess if it was a miscalculation or a premeditated move. His heart skipped a beat at it, either way.

“I don’t want to ever fight with you, either.” Michael whispered against his lips. Calum opened his eyes to find Michael’s shining again with a sheen of tears, love and openness staring right up at him. It would make anyone’s eyes water, and Calum felt the first tear sliding down his eyes, Michael’s thumb quick to brush it away. “You’re my…”

“You too.” Calum nuzzled back, lightly pressing his lips in a kiss to Michael’s cheek, his breath ragged as he felt his love for the older boy running through his veins like wildfire.

“Love you, Cal.”

“Love you, Michael.” _Probably always will._

A month. Calum gave himself a month to get his act straight. He _wanted _to take the step with Michael. There was nothing else he wished more for them. And he had to be the right kind of guy, the man who Michael deserved. He was going to stop smoking for good. That was the first thing. And then Calum promised himself he would fight against all his acquired instincts. Running away. Not sharing. Hiding in his own mind. He would conquer them all, for Michael. And then, he would _propose_.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it if you read till the end hahhaha


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